


A Study in Violet

by stellarer



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, F/F, Families of Choice, First Person Narration, Gen, Oops! All Murder, Season: Spring in Hieron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 17:47:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18451535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarer/pseuds/stellarer
Summary: We’d been picking off the scattered Auniq Council ever since Throndir had told us about what they’d gotten up to. It was time to finish the job.





	A Study in Violet

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for parent death, mention/discussion of the torture situation in Auniq, grief.  
> Thanks to Abby for cheerleading, as always!

It was the most recent visit to the University that decided it. The snow elves had been banished from the University for a few months at that point, and every time I had spoken to Throndir since then, he had seemed quieter, stiller. He has a smile that lights up the whole room, and he’s usually generous with it. The absence of that smile was painful. I didn’t take it personally, of course, but I was worried about him. 

As we traveled the road that led out of the bubble, Victoria was clearly thinking something over. I let her think, and eventually she said, “It’s time to finish the job.” I nodded. We had been putting off one particular visit for a while.

“We’ll have to tell Throndir eventually,” I said. “And he won’t be happy about it.”

“Yes he will,” Victoria said. “But you’re right that he’ll be upset too.”

We’d been picking off the scattered Auniq Council ever since Throndir had told us about what they’d gotten up to, both at Auniq and at the University. 

“I think he’d gladly do it himself, if it weren’t so personal,” I said. “Especially Thelian.” The final member of the Auniq Council, the one we had been the most conflicted about killing. He had been Throndir’s closest family for so long. He had turned out to be a torturing scumbag, of course. We had tracked him down a month or so before, to the outskirts of a settlement where he’d been slowly collecting various plants and materials that seemed to most closely match recipes for life-leeching potions.

Victoria was quiet for a time. “Thelian deserves this.” 

“He does,” I said.

“Usually you object when I say that sort of thing.”

I like to frame what we do in terms of harm reduction, not moral repercussions, but I was thinking about the years Throndir had spent in Velas, on his own for the first time in his life, without family, alone with his knowledge of Auniq’s truth. To hear him tell it, Kodiak was his only friend; I don’t like dogs much, but I’ve become much more fond of Kodiak ever since I learned that.

I just said, “You know Thelian’s a special case.”

 

 

We found Thelian in his small house, where he seemed to be in the middle of writing something. Probably research notes for his immortality experiments; I don’t know and don’t care. He looked up from his work as Victoria slammed the door open. The action ripped the latch right off the doorframe.

“Golden Lance,” he said, not quite hiding his surprise. I could sense a spike of anxiety in him, but he covered it quickly. “What are you doing in my house?”

Victoria watched him silently. I gave it a few moments for her dark, piercing gaze to unsettle Thelian before I spoke.

“We’re here to hold you accountable for the torture and death of countless people over the past four decades,” I told him, “in your role as an elder of Auniq.”

Thelian scoffed. “That’s hearsay,” he said. “That’s a lie made up by our enemies to defame the good snow elves of Auniq. There’s no evidence for such a ridiculous claim.”

“We know of it from the testimony of a good snow elf from Auniq,” said Victoria, in her low, smooth voice. “And we don’t need to prove anything to anyone. If you’re at all familiar with the Golden Lance, you’ll know we carry out justice as we see fit.” She moved her hand very slightly where it rested on the hilt of a knife tucked in her belt. 

Thelian gulped visibly. He set down his pen; ink dripped onto his papers. “It was for the benefit of the community.” His voice wavered. I felt a sense of grim satisfaction. I wanted him scared, and then I wanted him dead.

“It was for your own benefit,” I said. “You felt cheated of a long life and you wanted to steal it, even at cost to others.”

“Auniq had lost so much of its history and culture already,” Thelian said. His voice had developed a wheedling quality. “Our elders were dying at an alarming rate. Surely you understand, our whole way of life was falling apart.”

“That’s exactly the same story the rest of your council friends told us,” I said. “And I can hardly believe you even tried to justify it to yourselves like that. It’s pathetic.”

“You spoke to the others?”

“We’ve already visited the rest,” Victoria said. Thelian’s eyes flitted to the rifle slung across her back. 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” I asked. I felt my lip curl. I hoped my fangs were visible. I always love seeing people’s expressions change when they realize they’ve underestimated me. Thelian didn’t disappoint. His eyes widened and I could smell his fear. He didn’t respond.

Victoria, so calm to this point, slammed her hands on the table in front of Thelian. Inches from his face, she hissed, “You abandoned your own son. You would have hurt him. You did hurt him.”

Thelian glared at her and barked, “I’m the only reason he left with his life.” He raised his chin. “That boy made his own choices. He put himself above his people. He’s not my son anymore.”

Victoria took a measured step back and looked to me.

I don’t usually let myself make judgement calls about people’s lives when I feel my blood boil in my veins. I act rashly; I do things I regret. The icy certainty of righteous anger is a more reliable state for me, and one I’m more used to. I never make bad decisions in that state.

This was a boiling anger. 

But we had come to a decision about Thelian’s fate long ago, calm and calculated, so I knew I was making the right choice even in my fury.

I met Victoria’s eyes. We’ve known each other long enough that she could tell what my call was.

“You’re damn right he’s not your son,” Victoria said. “He’s got us now.” When Victoria’s angry, she’s magnetic. It’s impossible to take your eyes off her. She’s terrifying. Thelian paled even before his blood started to fill the air. Snow elves have purple blood, and it lent the room a lavender haze that reminded me of lilac blossoms in the first fragrant week of spring. I ran my tongue over one of my fangs.

“Fucking Golden Lance,” Thelian gasped. “Think you’re so noble. Turns out you’re just out for revenge. After all.”

Victoria just sneered, and pulled his blood out of him entirely. She consumed it slowly, then walked to the desk and pulled a few papers out from under the corpse.

“He’s been writing,” Victoria said. 

“And writing’s dangerous, darling,” I said, smiling at her. She smiled back crookedly. 

“When the writer knows dangerous things,” she finished for me, donning her wide-brimmed hat. “We’ll have to burn it down.”

“Sweep first,” I said. She nodded, and we each took a side of the little house, checking behind bookcases and under rugs for any secret doors or cellars. But the torturer didn’t have anyone trapped in his home, and nothing we saw there was worth taking, so we left the body and the papers and watched from outside to make sure the whole place burned down. It took a few hours for the fire to go out; we talked with some of the villagers who came to see what was happening. Nobody seemed upset at the death, and nobody questioned our jurisdiction. 

 

 

Our next trip to the University was a heavy one. Victoria gave Throndir some rings that she’d taken from Thelian’s hands; Throndir took them, looked away, wiped his eyes. 

“He lived here for years,” Throndir said, sitting next to me with his head on my shoulder. “In that whole time he only spoke to me once, on accident. And when he realized he was talking to me, he stopped in the middle of his sentence, and turned away.” He laughed a bit, through tears. Victoria handed him a handkerchief and he accepted it. “He never even looked at me, if he could help it.” 

I met Victoria’s gaze over Throndir’s head and shook my head slightly. Throndir didn’t need to know what Thelian had said; he wasn’t under any illusions about what Thelian thought of him. 

“He didn’t feel any remorse,” Victoria said. “He was surviving off leeching potions. Feeding off a nearby village. But he’s gone now, and his work is gone, and the rest of that entire council is gone.” She put a hand on Throndir’s shoulder, then pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, Throndir.”

Kodiak, who had been leaning against Throndir’s legs, put his head on my knee. I scratched his ears. Kodiak is good.

Throndir didn’t talk for a while, then said, “I couldn’t bring myself to ask you to kill them.”

“I know,” Victoria told him. 

“I’m glad they’re all gone.” Throndir’s anger reminds me of Victoria’s. They both get intense, focused, and explosive. They have nearly the same dark brown eyes, which probably compels me to compare their personalities more than I would otherwise. But I think I’m right that Throndir angry is similar to Victoria angry. 

Victoria wasn’t angry in that moment, though, and she rested her hand on Throndir’s shoulder, and he calmed a bit. “Me too,” she told him. 

They both looked at me, then, and I looked up--I had been talking to Kodiak--and said, “You know how I feel.”

Victoria smiled at me, fond and familiar, and said, “What are you doing all the way over there?”

I was only sitting about two feet away. “Well,” I said, “Kodiak was feeling left out.”

Throndir looked at Kodiak. “Kodiak thought _you_ were feeling left out. Both of you, get over here.” He held an arm out, and I scooted over and hugged him. Kodiak barked and jumped over to lick Throndir’s face, and Throndir laughed, carefree for at least that moment.


End file.
